Rest for the Restless
by The Original Madackles
Summary: Sam's away at Stanford, and Dean can't sleep. The two worlds collide once more over a simple phone call. Crack conversation ensues.


He felt sleep slowly seep into his skin, taking him whole and claiming him its bitch. Desperately attempting to keep himself awake, he rubbed at his eyes. His attention then diverted back to the books that sat before him, spread amongst the wooden desk in a messy way. He had to study, he had a huge ass test tomorrow, and if he failed- well he was fucked for that class. Glancing over at the clock, the time ticked past twelve. _Just one more hour, _he promised himself, for he truly believed that was all he needed. Sure, Sam Winchester had pulled all-nighters before, but this- this was just painful.

He could hear the soft snores coming from his bedroom, as his girlfriend slept alone in their queen bed. He was so tempted- _so damn tempted_- to just call it a night, crawl in bed- and wait to see what the morning brought him, but his conscience was far too nagging for that. So he sat there, and re-read the same paragraph over and over again, hoping to God that it would just stick like common knowledge. His brain began to confirm an understanding to the set of large words placed back to back in several sentences, as he merely pushed the idea of sleep far away.

_Just one more hour, Sam. You can do it._Clinging to his state of focused consciousness, Sam began easily reading through the pages, everything making far more sense than it did before- and that's when… of course… his phone rang.

He heard the light automatically given cellular tune, and was almost enticed by his inner thoughts to throw it at the wall. It was at that moment that the screen caused that sense of curiosity that Sam carried around like a radio, on his shoulder, to reign over his movements.

_Unrecognized number._

His inner thoughts kept telling him no, but for some reason he just couldn't stop himself from reaching out and hitting the answer button. Before he knew it, he was holding the phone to his ear and listening to the erratic deep breaths that were coming over the silent line.

"Hello?" He spoke quietly, careful not to wake up the sleeping blonde in the other room.

There came a sudden sigh of relief, and a whispered "Thank God." Then, came a bunch of shuffling.

Sam, unsure of the situation repeated his greeting, yet with a few extra words; "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Sammy, you're okay- right?"

"Dean?"

"Dude, no time for identities, _they_ could be listening. Are you okay?"

Sam's brows pushed together. "Who? And, are you okay?"

"Them, and I asked you first toolbag."

"Dean- I haven't talked to you in over a year, and you call me at- whatever the hell time it is for you- to ask me I'm okay? Something's up."

"Quit insinuating shit, Sammy. I just needed to know you're okay."

"I'm fine, Dean. Question is, are you?"

"Yeah, I mean--" There was a few deep breathes, and a pause. "Do you think it'd be more comfortable to sleep under the bed?"

"What?"

"I mean- it looks more comfortable, and plus, no one can see me, so there's some advantages…"

"Dean, what the hell?"

"I'm just sayin', Sammy. I can't sleep. You're the one going to Medical school---"

Sam soon cut him off, "Law School, Dean. Not medical school."

"---Same shit, but I can't sleep, and I want you to tell me why."

"Did you try counting sheep?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that? I'm not sleeping in an open meadow, Sammy."

"First off, it's Sam- second off, it's just an expression, Dean."

"Fuck expressions, I need a workable way to sleep, and diving under the bed is looking more and more welcoming as the seconds pass."

Sam silently chuckled, "Dean- try watching TV. Or pay-per-view. Something to calm your nerves."

Dean sighed, "Tried that. Twenty-six murders on the East Coast, four murderers loose in Louisiana, a rabid dog attacked a cop in Minnesota, and turns out Swine Flu is more dangerous than we prior thought possible."

"I said watch pay-per-view, not the news."

"Well- screw that. Too late. Which reminds me, if you see a Caucasian guy, mid height, with a rose heart tattoo, you steer clear, and fuckin' call me- got it?"

"Dean, that's in Louisiana."

"Doesn't mean his twin brother isn't traipsing around California, asshat."

"When's the last time you got an average amount of sleep?"

A sudden paused silence came about before Dean spoke up, "Last Tuesday."

"What? Dean- it's friggen Saturday! What the hell has been keeping you up?"

"Everything."

"What?"

"I just keep thinking about--- everything."

It suddenly clicked for Sam, "Insomnia?"

"Insona-who?" Dean questioned, "No Sam- I just need sleep."

"Then go to sleep."

"I don't know how!"

"Okay, try this… put your head against the pillow, close your ey—"

"I'm going to friggen kill myself here, Sammy."

"Don't go that far." Sam said, worry leaking into his tone. "I mean, just tell me what's bothering you."

"You."

"What?"

"You are."

"I'm not following."

"Remember when you were seven, Sammy? You just couldn't fucking wait for school to begin- because you were all badass with your book bag, and white sneakers. And when you woke up in the morning you couldn't find those damn shoes- and we searched everywhere. I mean everywhere. I was crawlin' under the friggen beds, and couches- and they were just gone."

"Dean what's this got to do with anything?"

"Well- if you remember correctly, you refused to go to school, Sam. You said you wouldn't go unless you had your shoes. So instead of catching the bus, I argued with you. But what good did that do? I mean, you have a thick ass head, man. But finally, after we were already thirty minutes late, I convinced you to wear my boots. Y'know- the leather ones that dad had bought me for my birthday. And you were ecstatic. It was like I had given you a freakin' diamond the size of Texas." He breathed. "Yet- my boots turned out to be too big on you, and for reasons that couldn't be determined, you were so fucking happy about that. Said it'd give your feet extra breathing room, or something." Dean paused. "But I can remember goin' to school that day, without shoes on, and my teacher gave me so many detentions that I thought she'd keep me there forever. An' when she asked me why I wasn't wearin' shoes- I said…. Cause my brother needed 'em more than I do. She merely just laughed and said, 'You give the kid your shoes, he's gonna end up walkin' out on yah.' And yeah, it was a lame joke, but it made sense, and she was right- you left."

"Dean---"

"Sammy, you filled that extra room in my shoes. An' even if I'm not makin' any sense right now, I'm happy you did."

Sam ran out of breath, what the hell was his brother saying?

"I'm glad you got out of this life Sammy. You stayed true to your dream, and for that- dude, I'm so fucking proud of you. You can't even grasp it."

"…Thank you?"

There was a pause, once again, on the other end of the line. "Goddamnit, I can't get comfortable."

Sam laughed through that moment of depression that had leaked through his senses. "Just relax."

"I can't damnit. There's too much shit goin' on, I feel worthless just sleepin' through it!"

"Dean, if you don't sleep- you're going to end up so weak that you're not going to be able to deal with any shit."

"S'not true. I'm not weak."

"You're gonna be if you don't sleep."

"… I can't. Sam, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Cause I can't protect you if I'm sleepin'."

"You have nothing to protect me from, man. Remember, I can fill your shoes- I can protect myself."

"S'true." Dean yawned.

"Yeah it is."

"I think… that I deserve a cape."

Another laugh escaped from Sam's lips. "What?"

"A cape. Y'know- like Superman. But cooler. I could make one right now- there's a bed sheet and…"

"Dean, you need to go to sleep."

"Sam, you could have super sneakers! You could go from zero to emo in three point five!"

"Hey!"

"What? It's true. Broody."

"I don't brood!"

"Whatever you say, just don't brood too much over it."

"Dean- you're delirious."

"S'what they all say, Sammy."

"Then maybe you should listen to them."

"Nope. Can't. That'd be bad."

Dean was beginning to sound like a kid again, and truthfully- Sam enjoyed every aspect of it. "Why?"

"Cause you gotta be who you gotta be, ain't no chance at bein' somethin' you're not."

"Dude… you're killin' me here."

"Sorry, I just can't… sleep."

"Have you tried just closing your eyes?"

"No Sam, because that's obviously not step one."

"Shut up."

"Dude, I watched this movie, where a rabbit said the world was going to end."

Sam sighed, shutting his textbook soon after. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! The rabbit's name was Frank, and he said the world was going to end."

"He sounds like quite the rabbit."

"He was! It was crazy!"

Dean soon started talking about everything and anything. If he saw a shadow, he'd depict it. If he heard a noise, he'd make guesses at what it was. He'd even gone as far as to make up a story about apes taking over the world, and then went off on a rant about how they'd sue the director of Planet of the Apes. By the time Dean had run out of things to say, the clock struck almost four o'clock. Sam was half asleep, yet still scared to take away the phone from his ear. He didn't want to end this conversation, he just wished he didn't have so much to do.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to go to sleep."

"'Kay Sammy."

"I'll talk to you later…?"

"Yeahhh, okay." Dean's voice was fading in and out.

"I'm serious, Dean. All you gotta do is call me, I'll answer."

"S'what dad said. Never works."

"Dude, I'm not dad."

"S'true."

"Dean, go to sleep."

"I'll try."

"Good."

"Night Sammy."

"Night Dean."

With just a click, the two worlds were separated again.

Dean went back to his stuffy motel room that contained an empty twin bed, and Sam reluctantly turned off his lamp and crawled into his normal bed, with his normal girlfriend to slowly drifted into a content sleep, for normal awaited him tomorrow.


End file.
